


Blood and Silver

by bone_orchard



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bestiality (kinda), Dark fic, Human Victor Nikiforov, Hurt No Comfort, Knotting, M/M, Painful Sex, Rape, Rough Sex, Violence, Werewolf Katsuki Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-21 23:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13751841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bone_orchard/pseuds/bone_orchard
Summary: The woods are lovely, dark, and deep, as familiar to Viktor as the brick walls of his cottage. But even he knows not to venture into them on full moon nights when hulking shapes stalk the trees and blood-curling howls tear through the night’s peace.It’s not that he forgets. But the riverside is pleasantly cool in the afternoon, there’s unnatural lethargy tugging at his limbs, and it’s easy to drift off the in the soothing shade of a tree.When he wakes, the moon is bright and full, the forest is eerily silent, and Viktor-Viktor isn't alone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is dark. Read the tags, proceed with caution, shoot me a comment if you have questions.
> 
> The pesudo-bestiality tag is for when Yuuri shifts in the middle of sex.

 

Viktor runs.

He runs until his legs hurt and lungs burn, heedless of the branches that batter his body and tear at his clothes. He runs with his eyes frantically searching the path ahead, bitterly grateful for the moonlight that lets him see enough to swerve past trees and leap over logs.

He runs because he can hear them, panting and growling and _chasing_.

He stumbles into a clearing, large and silvery with the moon gleaming right above it. The place is vaguely familiar, like it’s one of his daytime haunts, but his terrified mind can only think that he’s out in the open here, nowhere to hide from the creatures hunting him. Despair almost makes his knees give out, but Viktor picks himself up and sprints across the grass. He thinks he hears something snap at his heels.

He makes it halfway.

Something slams into him, heavy and huge, throwing its considerable weight at his back. Viktor crashes to the ground, one shoulder taking the brunt of the damage. He turns around, ignoring the flare of pain, and tries to scramble back up, only to stop short at the sight of his assailant.

It’s a wolf.

Not the half-man, half-animal monster of legends, but a four-legged, red-furred lupine, normal save for its size. Viktor, before a curious mix of boredom and loneliness made him settle in Hasetsu, has been to many places, seen many things. He’s seen wolves, natural ones. They were big animals, beautiful in their own way, but not even the largest was anywhere close to the size of the creature standing in front of him, hackles up and snarling.

Viktor sees his death in those teeth.

No one went to the woods on full moon nights. Those that did never came back out.

The creature leaps. Viktor closes his eyes and braces for everything to end.

The hot snap of jaws around his neck never comes. There’s a fleshy thud and a whimper, and Viktor opens his eyes just in time to see the wolf get sent flying several yards. In front of Viktor stands a man, bare-chested and shadowed, turned away from him towards the fallen wolf. It stands up all too soon, lips peeled back from sharp teeth in a threatening snarl.

Viktor somehow finds his voice. He doesn’t know how or why the man saved him, but he needs to warn him.

“W-watch out! It’s a werewolf.”

The man doesn’t even seem to hear him, understandable enough with his attention on a very angry werewolf. But for some reason, the creature isn’t attacking, only growling at the man. A part of Viktor yells at him to him to stand and get the hell out of there, but he can’t move, terrified that even twitching would draw the red wolf’s attention to him. And he can’t leave the other man alo-

“Minami.”

It takes Viktor a second to understand that it’s the man who spoke. His voice is…strange. Too deep, with a rumbling undertone that almost matches the wolf’s low growls.

“ _Minami_ ,” the man repeats, irritation lacing his voice. Viktor freezes. “This one isn’t for you. Leave.”

The wolf’s growls grow louder.

The man _growls back_.

Dread winds into a tight knot in Viktor’s chest.

The wolf makes an unhappy huffing sound, turns on its heels, and vanishes into the treeline. The man finally turns to Viktor.

He could have tried to run. He knows, even half out of his mind with terror and confusion, that it’s his best chance of escape. But Viktor doesn’t know how he could have brought himself to move when Katsuki Yuuri stares down at him with gleaming silver eyes and a mouth full of too-sharp teeth.

He knows Yuuri. He’s been watching Yuuri since his first day in the village, when the local blacksmith drunk himself into a frenzy and swept Viktor into an energetic dance around the campfire. After, Yuuri pinned him to a tree, hot lips mouthing up Viktor’s neck as he said-

_Stay. Stay, Viktor, stay._

Viktor stayed, waving Yakov on as the man grumbled and scowled but left anyway.

Yuuri didn’t even smile at him since. Viktor knew he remembered nothing of the night. He didn’t leave, still doesn’t, because Hasetsu is nice and quiet, and while work for a goldsmith isn’t as lucrative as it would be in the big towns, he makes enough to get by. And there is Yuuri, never meeting Viktor’s eyes and never speaking more than bland greetings to him, but beautiful and mesmerizing enough to breathe color into Viktor’s dreams and daydreams.

This isn’t that Yuuri.

Yuuri’s eyes are the deepest, prettiest brown, not this piercing, unnatural silver. And his smiles, even the rare, unguarded ones, are sweet and _warm_ , not the sharply vicious thing now aimed at Viktor.

“Who are you?” Viktor asks, forcing the words past an achingly dry throat.

Yuuri tilts his head.

“Yuuri, of course. You know me.” In a flash, he’s crouched beside Viktor, pinching his chin between a thumb and forefinger. “Don’t you, Vitya?”

The diminutive makes Viktor flinch away, another mark that this isn’t Yuuri, not the one he knew. He never calls Viktor anything but his proper name, having remained unmoved even when the rest of the village easily embraced the shortened form.

“You’re not,” Viktor bites out, crawling away. “Yuuri’s not-Yuuri wouldn’t-”

“Oh, you know nothing about me,” Yuuri informs him cheerfully. He’s still so _wrong_. “But it doesn’t matter now, does it, Vitya? You’re going to know me very well by the time the night is over.”

This time, Viktor has the presence of mind to jump to his feet and flee.

He barely makes it two paces before Yuuri catches him.

He’s gentler than the wolf – Minami? – was, restraining Viktor instead of throwing him down. It doesn't feel like mercy.

Yuuri’s breath is hot on his neck, and Viktor shudders, writhing in the arms closed around him like a vice.

“You can’t escape,” Yuuri tells him, sounding amused. “It’s full moon, Vitya. The forest is ours tonight. As is everything inside it.”

Viktor struggles harder. Yuuri doesn’t budge.

“Silly Vitya,” he drawls. “You should know better.”

“Go to hell,” Viktor spits at him, stomping his feet hard on one of Yuuri’s.

Is it really Yuuri?

The legend is about werewolves, but shape-shifters came in different sorts, didn’t they? Was this thing just wearing Yuuri’s face?

“No,” Yuuri answers, making Viktor realize he said that out loud. “I am what I seem to be, nothing more, nothing less. But that’s fine, isn’t it? You like me as I am, don’t you, Vitya?”

And then he grinds into Viktor.

There’s no mistaking the hardness pressed into his ass, burning hot through his tunic an trousers to sear into his skin. Viktor stands stunned as Yuuri repeats the gyrating motion, panting against Viktor’s neck.

In a flurry of desperation, Viktor breaks free. He doesn’t last as long as before. Strong fingers close around his ankle and sends Viktor falling face-first into the grass. A heavy body drapes over his back, pinning him down easily.

“You can’t run,” Yuuri tells him, casually condescending like explaining something to a very small child. “You’re mine now. And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

It’s ironic that there was a time – like mere hours earlier – when Viktor would have given a limb to have Katsuki Yuuri say that to him.

Now, he just squirms under the suffocating weight of him, snarling out curses.

“Fuck you, let me go, you monster.”

“I can only do one of those, Vitya. You can guess which. Stay still. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

Yuuri tears off his clothes with horrifying ease, the fabric giving away like wet paper. The tunic goes first, a large hand over Viktor’s throat keeping him immobile as Yuuri picks off patches of it from his back and chest. The trousers follow, slower and all the more mortifying, until Viktor is bare as the day he was born and still trapped under the-

The werewolf?

Then why does Yuuri still look human?

But he does, he look and acts like a man, not a beast, and maybe it’s not the same one Viktor has been smitten with for two years, but there must be some humanity in him, something Viktor can appeal to.

“Let me go,” Viktor says softly, not quite begging but close to it. “Yuuri, please don’t do this, I promise I won’t say anything. Let me go. I won’t come here again, I’ll – I’ll leave the village. Please.”

“You won’t leave the village,” Yuuri says with a laugh. “You love it there. I’ve seen you. And after this, well, you can’t leave even if you want to.”

And with that, Yuuri presses his cock against Viktor’s ass.

It’s big. Viktor, helpless and held down, can do nothing but feel the way Yuuri drags it across his skin. He’s frozen until the head nudges his hole.

“Don’t,” he chokes out, voice ragged with naked fear. “Don’t – I can’t – I can’t take that, you’ll tear me apart.”

“That is the idea,” Yuuri says, but his hips lift and the next moment, the weight over Viktor is gone.

He doesn’t waste any time trying to get away, though he _knows_ it’s futile, but he can’t not try, not when he knows what’s going to happen to-

Hands clamp around his hips when he’s pushed himself up to his hands and knees, dragging him back none too gently. His skin scrapes over soft grass and sharp stones, but he barely registers any of it, sick with the realization that he played right into Yuuri’s hands. They spread his ass, sharp nails biting into the skin, and Yuuri buries his face between them.

Viktor can’t help but listen in numb horror as his own mouth parts on a moan at the first swipe of Yuuri’s tongue.

There’s no shame, no hesitance in the broad, wet licks with which Yuuri works him open, lapping at the rim until its soaked through and loose, allowing the tip to press gently inside. Viktor trembles, biting his hard enough to bleed at the assault, but incapable of stifling the helpless little noises that are torn from his throat.  Yuuri seems spurred on by them, his enthusiasm growing as his mouth and tongue moves against Viktor’s hole, coaxing him loose with maddeningly clever motions.

It feels good, better than anything Viktor’s ever felt, and that’s the greatest humiliation. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until tears sting the wounds his teeth have made on his lips.

Viktor loses track of time. He tries, once, to crawl away, but Yuuri wraps his hands around his legs even without moving his face from between Viktor’s cheeks. He laughs, the sound rumbling right into him and pulling out a desperate wail.

He doesn’t know how long passes before Yuuri resurfaces. Viktor trembles on weak limbs, and this time, when one of Yuuri’s hands leave him, he doesn’t try to run.

There’s a spitting noise, suspiciously slick sounds, and then Yuuri’s draped over him again, his chest hot and slick against Viktor’s back.

“Please,” Viktor begs, hopeless but trying anyway. “Stop.”

Yuuri’s answer is his cock pushing into Viktor.

It hurts.

Spit and some tongue aren’t anywhere near enough to loosen him for something that size, and it feels like Yuuri’s splitting him open, cleaving Viktor in half with each, blistering inch of his cock. Viktor tries to scream, but the words die in his throat, and he can only soundlessly gasp as Yuuri fucks him open with brief, burning thrusts.

It _hurts_.

Tears drip down his chin.

Then Yuuri pulls back until only the head is holding Viktor open and slams all the way in.

This time, Viktor does scream, the broken shriek ripped out of his throat as red and white flashes behind his lids. His arms give away, and he hits the ground hard, the sting of it blending it to the mind-numbing agony from inside him.

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” Viktor finds himself chanting, taking wet, gasping breaths in between.

“Sssh,” Yuuri breathes against his ear, nuzzling into Viktor. “It’s alright, you’re doing so well, Vitya.”

It’s insult to injury, but Yuuri’s mouth is gentle as it presses kisses along Viktor’s throat, hot lips and sweet nips inexorably sending pleasant sensation cascading through his body. His cock twitches.

Viktor is seized by a fresh wave of horror.

“Stop,” he gasps, even as Yuuri sucks a bruise into the base of his throat. “Yuuri, please, _please_.”

Yuuri says nothing, but his body does the work for him, pulling back and pushing back in, not even slowing until every monstrous inch of him is buried deep within Viktor’s body. Pain radiates from his ass, throbbing waves that make him press his face to the ground and shudder.

Yuuri keeps going, mouthing over Viktor’s shoulder and fucking into his ass.

Somewhere along the line, it starts to feel good.

Viktor feels exhausted, everything distant and hazy for even the horror lurking in his mind to have much of an impact. He’s aware of the way Yuuri’s cock brushes that one spot with each savage thrust, the heat of his mouth lapping at Viktor’s neck, and the answering stirring of his own cock, but it’s easier to just close his eyes and press his face to the grass and _not think_.

It doesn’t work for long.

A particularly vicious thrust sends Viktor sliding on the ground, the following ones equally brutal, teetering back on the edge of too, too much.

“Close,” Yuuri gasps above him. “You can take it, can’t you, Vitya?”

Viktor has no idea what Yuuri’s talking about and doesn’t want to know, just wants this to _stop_ , but then Yuuri starts growing and Viktor realizes that he can still be terrified by what’s happening to him.

“What are you doing?” Viktor asks, frantic, pushing himself up with great effort, only to regret it when that makes him feel what’s happening inside him. The base of Yuuri’s cock is expanding.

Viktor’s mind halts, drowning in sensation for one, drawn out moment, before grim reality reasserts itself.

“Stop,” Viktor shouts at Yuuri, writhing now, fighting to pull away and crying out through a raw throat when Yuuri’s cock tugs against his rim. “You can’t, I’ll die, Yuuri, please. Pull out, _pull out_.”

Yuuri doesn’t pull out. He doesn’t even seem to hear Viktor, too focused on pressing deeper and impossibly deeper into him, his monstrous cock still growing. There are sounds coming from him, guttural growls that make something inside Viktor quiver in primal fear, but he can’t think past the gruesome pressure assailing his ass.

He’d somehow grown used to the normal size of him, but this is – this is worse, bigger and wider than anything he’ll be able to take.

And yet he is, his hole twitching and tightening with the swell of Yuuri’s cock but somehow accommodating each searing inch of it. Viktor wants to glance down at his belly, see if this invasion shows under his skin because he can’t imagine this, can’t accept that he’s taking all this and not being torn in two, and then Yuuri moves, minute thrusts that press that swell of his cock ruthlessly against Viktor’s sweet spot and tugs mercilessly at his rim, and there’s no stopping the scream that leaves him.

He can’t understand the pleasure thrumming through his body, doesn’t know why his cock hangs hard between his legs, and then Yuuri starts _changing_ , and Viktor gives up.

Slick skin turns to soft fur, plastered across his back and bracketing his sides. Viktor watches with wide, blurry eyes as five-fingered hands turn into paws the color of midnight.

Yuuri’s howl rends the night.

Viktor shudders under him, unwanted pleasure and blood-curdling terror warring within his body. Yuuri’s locked into him now, huge and hot, and there’s one last thrust and wet heat flooding Viktor’s insides.

It’s the final straw.

Viktor comes with a shuddering sob, hating the way his cock twitches and spills his seed into the grass, twisted ecstasy shooting through his veins.

The tears don’t dry and the sobs don’t cease even when he’s done. Yuuri remains inside him, his – his _knot_ tying them together.

A wet, canine nose prods Viktor’s shoulder. He’s not fool enough to fancy it an apology.

There’s a low growl and razor sharp teeth tear into his shoulder.

The pain whites out his mind, and Viktor falls into the darkness that follows with something like relief.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was demand for more so I wrote more. Hope you’ll enjoy.

He slides into consciousness slowly, disoriented for several long seconds even after his eyes open. The bed under him feels thinner and harder than his own and the space before him is the inside of a wooden cabin, plain and unfurnished. There’s a window and sunlight trickles in, pleasantly mellow like it’s early morning.

For a few, blissful minutes, Viktor remembers nothing.

And when he does, all he can think is _Please let it have been a dream_.

He hopes, however briefly, that it was. He’s not in agony for one thing. But when he fumbles for his shoulder, his fingers land on thickly scarred skin. It’s not the raw wound it should be, not if it’s really just the next morning, but the scar, puzzling as it is, can only be from one thing. And when he moves, a helpless, aborted jerk, his lower half flares with pain.

Viktor bites into his pillow and stifles a sob and bolts upright the next moment, gritting his teeth at the pain, because he doesn’t know where he is.

It’s with horror that he realizes he’s not alone.

Yuuri’s in bed with him, sitting by Viktor’s feet and staring at him.

Viktor recoils, toppling from the bed with a shriek. That leaves him naked and exposed under Yuuri’s gaze, and Viktor wants to snatch up the sheets and cover himself, but that means moving closer to Yuuri and he can’t, he’s _frozen_.

Yuuri’s dressed in just pants and his eyes, which never leave Viktor, are dark again.

“Viktor,” he calls, low and – and soft, like he has any fucking right–

Viktor’s doesn’t mean to speak but the question slips out from between numb lips.

“Why?”

Yuuri has the gall to look apologetic. He says nothing, and sheer rage rises inside Viktor, mingling with his horror.

“You – you raped me, you fucking monster, you–”

Yuuri doesn’t meet Viktor’s eyes.

“Yes,” he says, calm and bland. “I did.”

“You hurt me.”

“Yes.”

“You bit me.”

“Yes.”

“ _Look at me, you coward_.”

Yuuri doesn’t even flinch at the shriek, and Viktor somehow finds himself able to move. It’s stupid, he knows it’s stupid, but he’s across the room in a flash, hand raised for a blow that echoes in the room.

Red blooms on Yuuri’s cheek. He looks at Viktor, eyes still that pretty brown Viktor used to love. He doesn’t say anything.

Viktor slaps his other cheek, vicious pleasure curling inside him when Yuuri’s head snaps to the side. There’s violence thrashing in his veins, screaming for blood. He shoves Yuuri back, nails tearing into his shoulders as he shakes him.

“How dare you fucking sit there and just–”

“Don’t, Viktor,” Yuuri warns, head still down, and Viktor wants to strangle him.

His hands are around Yuuri’s throat before the thought is even finished, gripping with the intent to hurt, to choke, to _kill_ –

Yuuri’s eyes flash silver.

Viktor is on his back on the bed before even registers what happened, Yuuri looming over him with gleaming eyes that send terror shuddering up his spine.

“No,” he whispers, voice lost in his throat. “No, fuck, let me go.”

Yuuri grins.

“I might have, but then you got all in my face like that, and I can’t really hold back when you smell so good, can I? Not when it’s so close to the full moon. Let me tell you something though – I might not have let you go even if you didn’t get me all worked up.”

With that, he leans down and licks a stripe up Viktor’s jaw.

The slick, slimy sensation makes him squirm, limbs flailing in an attempt to throw Yuuri off him. Viktor feels his fists collide harshly with Yuuri’s stomach and sides, but he doesn’t even seem to notice.

“You taste good,” Yuuri tells him, mouthing his way down Viktor’s throat, ignoring his desperate denials.

Then his lips find the scar on Viktor’s shoulder and _sucks_ , and Viktor’s mind blanks with terror even as pleasure sweeps through his body. Yuuri continues his ministration and his hips bear down, and Viktor can feel him hard and hot even through his pants.

He screams.

That makes Yuuri jerk back, wide-eyed and surprised.

“No, no, no,” Viktor chants, breath catching on dry sobs. “Not again, please, please, no, no.”

Yuuri holds him down with effortless ease but doesn’t move. His eyes flicker between brown and silver, his expression strangely blank. Viktor doesn’t stop trying to get free, choking down cries whenever it makes him rub up against Yuuri in ways that send unwanted sensation through him, but not daring to stop, even when Yuuri remains unmoved.

Yuuri’s eyes settle on silver, and Viktor feels his hope die.

He settles more firmly over Viktor.

“You should never have come into the forest, Vitya.”

“No, don’t you dare fucking blame this on me.”

Yuuri actually looks surprised.

“Oh, but I’m not. It’s just an observation. I’d have had you eventually anyway, for all that I resisted. It was inevitable.”

Viktor doesn’t want to think about the implications of that. Yuuri doesn’t give him a chance to, knocking his legs apart and settling between them, giving Viktor fresh fears to tremble over.

“Yuuri,” Viktor tries, closing his eyes. “Let me go. I’m begging you.”

“I like you begging. But you know I won’t let you go, don’t you? You’re mine.”

“ _No_.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Yuuri growls and grinds his hips down.

Viktor shrinks into the mattress as if trying to escape the relentless pressure and the pleasure tearing into him. Yuuri has his eyes half-closed, only a sliver of silver visible, but they burn into Viktor, keeping him pinned.

He reaches down with one hand, the other not leaving Viktor, and shoves down his pants. Viktor doesn’t mean to, but he can’t help a downwards glance and the same thing that ripped into him last night now has him shuddering.

It is big, as huge as he’d felt it to be, and already hard and flushed, fluid dripping from the tip. It brushes Viktor’s skin, sliding up his thigh and hips and Viktor nearly bites himself bloody trying not to scream. It won’t do any good anyway.

Yuuri reaches for him, and Viktor flinches away as much as he can. But he’s not Yuuri’s target. The vial of oil he retrieves from near the pillow sends both relief and a new wave of terror cascading through Viktor.

Viktor can only watch as Yuuri maneuvers the vial open and slathers his cock in oil, some of it dripping onto Viktor and making him shiver.

“I’ll be gentler,” Yuuri promises him, and Viktor turns his head to hide his tears.

The press of Yuuri’s cock against his hole is all it takes to ruin his composure. Viktor jerks away, legs and arms flailing, the sudden movements catching Yuuri off guard. But it’s not enough because he only grabs Viktor tighter, and even with one hand slippery from oil, he’s somehow strong enough to hold Viktor down. He doesn’t even acknowledge the resistance, just presses right in.

“Yuuri,” Viktor yelps, thrashing, his breaths coming fast and rough as he’s violated again. “Yuuri, no, _stop_.”

He doesn’t stop.

Soon, Viktor doesn’t have the voice to ask.

He feels like he’d drowning, ass stretched wide over that impossible girth, pain radiating through his lower half. He’s sore from yesterday, and it feels worse now, raw and sharp and maddening.

“So tight,” Yuuri whispers, sounding like he’s the one in unbearable agony. “How are you still so _tight_?”

He’s not, Yuuri’s just too fucking big, but he doesn’t have the voice to spit that out so he glares instead, Yuuri’s face blurry. He blinks and more tears slide down his face.

Yuuri leans down and licks them.

Viktor shudders, stifling whimpers when Yuuri rocks into him and mouths at his face, tongue flicking out to taste Viktor’s tears. He pulls back after a while, licking his lips with a strange smile and half-lidded eyes.

“I like this,” he tells Viktor, pushing in that last, painful inch. “That look in your eyes. I should have had you like this last night. Wouldn’t that be fun, Vitya? You spread out under the moonlight, all pale and broken? So pretty. That hair of yours, like star-blood spilt on the ground…”

Viktor listens with pale horror at the way Yuuri says such things as if they’re praises, each word murmured with a kind of softness that’s at odds with everything he has done to Viktor, everything he’s doing.

It’s a blessed distraction too, at least until Yuuri starts moving.

Viktor chokes on a cry when Yuuri pulls out without warning and thrusts in deep, his thighs keeping Viktor’s legs spread as they desperately try to close around him. Yuuri winds one hand in Viktor’s hair, fingers slipping into the wild tangle of them and gripping hard, pulling Viktor’s head back none too gently. The next thrust forces a scream out of him, the sound like broken glass tearing through his throat.

“Hurts,” he gasps, helpless not to, blinking up at Yuuri. “Please.”

Yuuri’s eyes seem to soften, but his response isn’t anything Viktor wanted.

Yuuri curls his oiled hand around Viktor’s cock, resting limp against his stomach, and starts stroking, slick and hot and fast, barely giving Viktor the room to sputter out a denial before pleasure races through his body and his cock starts filling in Yuuri’s grip. The pain from his ass is ever-present, but Yuuri shifts just so, and suddenly, each thrust is brushing against that spot that makes Viktor see stars and the pain does little to ease the effect of the combined assault on his sensitive parts.

Viktor thinks he pleads for Yuuri to stop, or maybe it’s Yuuri’s name that’s the plea, but the answer he gets is a hot mouth latching on to his scarred shoulder while Yuuri grinds his hips down and jerks Viktor’s cock as if trying to wring an orgasm out of him.

He succeeds all too well, Viktor cock twitching in his grasp and spilling his seed while he closes his eyes and tries not to scream at the searing splash of come on his skin.

Yuuri doesn’t stop moving but his panting gets more ragged, his breath falling hot on Viktor’s skin. He sounds close. This time, when the length inside him grows, Viktor’s prepared.

That doesn’t make it hurt any less, doesn’t stop him from clutching at Yuuri’s shoulders and raking nails down his arms.

“No, no, don’t, Yuuri, I can’t take it, I _can’t_.”

“You can,” Yuuri tells him, voice horse with pleasure. “Fuck, you’ve had it before, Viktor, you can take it now.”

The knot pops, locking them together, and Viktor’s screams turn into wet, messy sobs. Yuuri laps at his tears, batting away Viktor’s attempt to claw at his face and pinning his hands above him.

“So hot around me,” Yuuri whispers against Viktor’s throat, still grinding into him, moving his hips in small, aborted movements that each tears broken cries out of Viktor. “So good, Viktor.”

Viktor stares at the wooden ceiling, limp under Yuuri and wishing he could just make it stop.

The flood of heat inside him makes him shudder and twitch, squirming uselessly under Yuuri for a second before he loses the strength for that. He feels hot and slick with sweat, Yuuri a suffocating weight over him.

At least this time, he didn’t turn into a wolf.

The memory – Yuuri heavy and furred over his back, Viktor coming helplessly on his cock – threatens to ruin him for a moment, but he pushes it away, closes his eyes, and tries not to clench around Yuuri, still buried deep and tied in him.

Yuuri smoothes his hand over Viktor’s brow, the gesture a mockery of tenderness.

“Oh, Viktor,” he sighs, all the earlier heat and cruel delight gone from his voice. “Do you regret meeting me yet?”

Viktor used to think that meeting Yuuri was the best thing to happen to him, and as months passed and Yuuri kept avoiding him, his hopes had dwindled, but Viktor hadn’t given up on his infatuation, not really.

“Yes,” he muttered, too tired to sound bitter.

Yuuri strokes his face and when Viktor makes a weak attempt to lean away, he stops.

 _That_ gets his attention.

Viktor looks at Yuuri and finds him staring down at him with liquid brown eyes. He was calling him Viktor, not Vitya.

“There are two of you,” he says dully, unable to look away from Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri just smiles, almost sadly.

“No, Viktor. There’s only one of me.”

He moves then, and Viktor jolts with a cry, twisting under Yuuri and biting back a whimper when that just makes the knot tug at his rim. Yuuri makes soothing noises and _keeps on moving_ , laying his weight on Viktor and, in a motion that sends pain and twisted pleasure shuddering through his body, flips them so that they’re lying side by side, one of Viktor’s legs hitched over Yuuri’s waist and his ass still wide open over Yuuri’s knot.

Viktor pants against Yuuri’s neck, the new position making him feel everything that’s been done to him with newfound intensity. Yuuri runs a palm up and down his back, and Viktor hates himself a little when it helps him calm down.

“I hate you,” Viktor says quietly, pulling back so Yuuri can see it on his face.

It doesn’t work much. Yuuri still has brown eyes and a gentle expression, but there’s a heat in him that makes Viktor want to scream and _run_.

“There’s isn’t two of me. This isn’t some split personality thing. But wolves are primal creatures, and I’m half a beast. When that side takes over, I just lose any restrictions I place on myself. It’s still me, my desires.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m the one who wanted you, Viktor. All me, just me. Why do you think I avoided you all this time?”

“Are you trying to make excuses?”

Yuuri’s smile is crooked. It makes him look devastatingly handsome, and Viktor wants to rip the skin of his face with his own hands. Yuuri’s eyes widen and he sniffs the air, lids fluttering close as he trails his nose down Viktor’s neck.

“Your scent’s changed already,” he tells Viktor, licking at a drop of sweat trickling down his jaw.

“You bit me. Last night, you…”

It’s his last memory. Blinding pain and the bliss of darkness.

“You’ll run with us next full moon.”

“I’m leaving this fucking village.”

Yuuri tips his chin up and when Viktor tries to jerk away, he catches him in bruising hold, fingers digging into his cheeks.

“You won’t,” Yuuri tells him quite calmly, unaffected by Viktor’s snarl. “You belong to this forest now. This forest and me.”

“ _I’m not yours_.”

Yuuri quiets him with a kiss. Viktor flinches back on instinct, but Yuuri’s hand is punishing on his face, holding him fast, and his knot tugs at his hole, sending pain lancing up his back. Yuuri’s tongue forces his way past Viktor’s lips.

He bites down, hard, copper taste filling his mouth as Yuuri bleeds. It doesn’t even make him slow down.

Viktor stills in horror as Yuuri licks his own blood from his mouth. When he pulls back, his lips are painted red. There’s a flash of silver in his eyes and Viktor tenses, but in the end, they settle on brown.

“It’ll go down soon,” Yuuri tells him, voice calm and flat, utterly unaffected by the state of his tongue. And for good reason because it’s all too easy to see, once Yuuri has licked the blood off, that the wound is gone like it never existed.

“What are you?”

“You know that, Viktor.”

Yuuri’s hand slides down his pack, caressing his spine with an incongruously tender touch before slipping between his cheeks to trace the taut skin of Viktor’s hole spread wide around Yuuri’s cock. Viktor’s breath hitches, but this time, he’s not foolish enough to try and get away.

“Why not just kill me?” he asks, voice hollow, the words leaving him strangely unmoved. Nothing seems to matter anymore. “I could go to the village, tell them what you are.”

Yuuri just shrugs.

“Go ahead.”

Viktor summons the energy to gape at him.

“What? It’s a small, isolated village, Vitya. Do you think they don’t know? Of course they do. We are what protects this village and in return, they leave us be. Especially on full moon nights. I told you – you should never have come into the forest last night.”

“I never meant to.”

It sounds pitiful even to his own ears, but it’s true. Even if he had, he doesn’t deserve this. No one does.

“I wanted you for such a long time,” Yuuri tells him, more words that Viktor would have loved to hear until yesterday. “I never planned to touch you because this would happen. But I suppose that’s why I didn’t kill you last night.”

Viktor lets out a peal of empty laugher.

“Are you saying you were merciful? Don’t delude yourself. You’re just a monster.”

Yuuri closes his eyes.

“I am, that. But merciful? No. I’m just selfish.”

Viktor doesn’t have anything to say to such bland, fucked up honesty.

He twists as far as he can from Yuuri as he can and waits for the knot to go down.

It does, eventually, Yuuri slipping out of him in a gush of sticky fluid. He rolls off the bed, stumbling and ending on his knees on the floor. Everything hurts. Yuuri, still lying languidly in bed, stretches out a hand as if to offer help. It falls to the bed at Viktor’s glare.

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps.

Yuuri says nothing, just gestures to a corner of the cabin where there’s a basket with a pile of clothes. Viktor dresses quickly, one eye on Yuuri. He ignores the way come dribbles down his legs, staining the ill-fitting pants as soon as he puts them on. The tunic is too tight across the shoulders but bearable. Viktor just wants to leave.

“We’re squarely in the middle of the forest. Can you find your way out?” Yuuri asks him. “I could lead you back to more familiar places.”

“I would rather die than spend another second with you.”

He walks out and pretends not to hear the words Yuuri whispers to him.

“You’ll come looking for me, Vitya. The moon will call you.”

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter.

In the first two weeks, he tries to leave eight times.

He doesn’t get far before something strange and indescribable pulls him back to the village. He tries to resist it, forcing himself to put one foot before the other until pain lances through his body, sending him to the ground in a pile of agony. It always takes him a long time to pick himself up and stumble back to his cottage, grateful that it’s at the edge of the village where no one will see him and ask questions he can’t answer.

He doesn’t give up. Each time, the pain gets worse.

The sixth time, he returns to find Yuuko, the innkeeper, waiting for him.

“Please stop, Viktor,” she says, voice soft and smile gentle. “You can’t leave the forest. Or Yuuri-kun.”

Viktor says nothing, only glares until she leaves. But when she turns away with a sad sigh, he can’t help but speak.

“Did he send you?”

“Yes,” Yuuko answers honestly. “I wanted to come here though. We’ve already hurt you and I understand why you want to leave, but you’ll only hurt yourself more trying.”

Viktor ignores the way she says we, ignores the implications of that, and goes back to glaring at her until she’s gone. Then he limps into bed and sleeps for half a day.

He tries twice more. After that, even the intention of leaving makes him seize up.

The sole mercy is that he doesn’t see Yuuri once in that time. He does venture out into the main part of the village, unable to avoid it, for work and food and human contact that he both craves and vehemently rejects. Sometimes, he thinks he sees the man out of the corner of his eyes but when he turns to look, there’s only empty air.

He dreads the full moon night with a raw, visceral fear.

It comes inevitably, the month flying by at times and crawling at others, and Viktor spends the day in bed, sweating profusely and aching everywhere. He feels too big for his skin, like something inside is aching to burst out. He remembers Yuuri’s hands turning into paws, his skin becoming fur over Viktor’s back, and screams at the violent shudder that tears through him.

By nightfall, his cries are louder and the itching under his skin stronger.

Viktor doesn’t register moving until he’s already out of the cottage and a few yards into the woods. He keeps going, hunched over and grabbing at trees for balance, everything hurting and _confusing_.

He sees people, faces and limbs flitting through the trees. He feels watched and knows that he knows these people. He thinks he sees Yuuko once, closer than the rest, her mouth twisted into something like pity.

“Help me,” he whispers, low and desperate and only for him to hear.

And then he falls into someone’s arms.

The contact feels so overwhelmingly good that Viktor cries out, clutching at the other person and pressing close, breathing in a dark, musky scent that smells like the forest and night air and _home_.

He looks up, and the moon shines through the trees, casting a silvery glow on Yuuri’s face.

Viktor pulls away with a yelp. He trips on something or maybe his knees just give away but before he knows it, he’s falling, limbs flailing. Instead of the ground at his back, what he feels is a strong grip on his arm and a rough yank that has him flush against Yuuri, being held up by his body.

“Leave,” Yuuri says, clipped and commanding. He doesn’t relax his grip on Viktor, not even when he makes a half-hearted struggle. It’s hard to even want to pull away when being touched like this makes the throbbing pain inside of him ease but it’s Yuuri and Viktor _can’t_ -

He can hear footsteps scurrying away, so many of them, faint enough that he knows he wouldn’t have heard it before Yuuri bit him.

“Vitya,” Yuuri calls, one hand tilting Viktor’s chin up.

His eyes are brown, his smile grim.

“What’s happening to me?” Viktor gasps, clinging to Yuuri to stay upright.

“The moon’s calling you,” Yuuri says and kisses Viktor.

It catches him off guard and he freezes and then Yuuri’s tongue is in his mouth, his hands are under Viktor’s clothes, and it feels so startlingly good, the bone-deep hurt plaguing him simmering down, and Viktor can’t make himself pull away. Yuuri keeps touching him, hands always restless, roaming all over Viktor, ripping off his clothes with violent motions that make Viktor flinch back, not that he gets far before Yuuri’s back on him, kissing him like he’s trying to eat Viktor alive.

Yuuri has him naked and pressed against a tree when Viktor regains his senses.

“Stop,” he snaps, pushing at Yuuri’s chest.

Yuuri actually backs off, eyes now silver and oddly calm.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking what’s mine,” Yuuri answers, reaching over to tug at a strand of Viktor’s hair. “And helping you.”

“Helping me?” Viktor asks, summoning the energy to be mocking.

“Would you rather be in unspeakable agony, feeling you bones break and skin split as the wolf takes over?”

Viktor grits his teeth as a new wave of pain shudders through him.

“I can help you,” Yuuri promises, stepping closer so he’s crowding Viktor against the tree. “This is my pack. You’re my pack. I can make it stop, Vitya.”

“You’re the reason why this is happening to me.”

“Yes. And you came into the woods on a full moon night. You belong to us.”

Viktor just shakes his head, resigned somewhere deep inside himself.

Yuuri pulls something out of his pants. It’s a vial of oil. Viktor flattens himself against the tree, trying to sink into it.

“I won’t hurt you,” Yuuri soothes, pulling a disbelieving huff out of Viktor. “It’ll make this easier, Vitya.”

“I don’t want this,” Viktor says as Yuuri’s hand slides between his thighs and his mouth brushes over the scar on his shoulder.

“I know.”

Yuuri doesn’t hurt him, at least not with his fingers. He’s gentle, slow, coaxing Viktor open with slick fingers that thrust in and out of him, first one, then two, then three, the fourth tracing the rim teasingly for several seconds, tearing helpless little sounds out of Viktor before pressing in. The lack of violence unsettles him even more than the way Yuuri is looking at him, hot and hungry.

“There we go,” Yuuri murmurs, lips brushing Viktor’s cheek. “It feels good, doesn’t it, Vitya?”

Viktor turns his face to the side and bites his lips to stifle a cry when Yuuri’s fingers drive mercilessly against that special spot.

He feels terribly empty when Yuuri pulls them out.

It still hurts when Yuuri pushes inside. Even with Viktor slick and loose, the size is a struggle, and Viktor rakes his nails down Yuuri’s arms, bites into his shoulder, muffling his pain when Yuuri fucks him open. Yuuri groans into his ear like Viktor’s teeth is spurring him on and buries himself to the hilt in one savage thrust.

There’s no smothering the scream that escapes Viktor, shrill and ragged as it echoes through the forest.

He blinks, tears dripping down his lashes, and thinks inanely of how familiar this all feels.

Yuuri doesn’t move, just stays deep inside Viktor, forcing him to feel the impossible fullness inside him. He can’t so much as twitch without his hole clenching around Yuuri’s cock, sensitive and raw.

That strange, maddening pain inside him isn’t gone but the remnants of it flutter weakly as if pulled out of Viktor by Yuuri’s touch.

“I hate you,” Viktor tells Yuuri, a twisted kind of promise.

“I know,” Yuuri breathes into his hair. “You always will, I think.”

And then he fucks Viktor.

He doesn’t know if it’s the angle that forces Yuuri to slow or if he’s making a conscious effort to be gentle, and he doesn’t much care either, not when every thought is scattered by the sensation of being fucked slow and deep, Yuuri never really pulling out, just moving his hips enough to let him drive his cock into Viktor. He grabs one of Viktor’s legs, hitching it up, both of them groaning at the new angle. Viktor buries his nails in Yuuri’s skin, blankly watching blood well up.

It feels good. Yuuri knows what he’s doing when he’s not tearing Viktor in two, and waves of pleasure slam through Viktor, his cock swollen and dripping where it’s trapped between their bodies. Yuuri wraps his hand around it, and Viktor bites out something like a denial. It’s ignored, Yuuri’s grip rough and firm, stroking Viktor with fast, sure motions.

Viktor comes with a ragged cry, spilling hot into Yuuri’s fist, his seed staining their bodies. Pleasure floods his veins, making stars burst behind his eyes as Yuuri’s cock prolongs his climax, each searing drag of him inside Viktor making another wave of heat tear through him.

There’s something else, a feeling deep in his gut, a pressure that’s tight and coiled and _painful_ , which bursts in a blinding flash that makes Viktor go limp, too stunned to even scream.

Yuuri pulls out without warning and suddenly, Viktor’s on his stomach on the ground.

Hands grab his hips and he barely feels the touch before he’s pulled back onto Yuuri’s cock.

“Fuck,” Viktor swears, dead leaves crunching under his fists. He can feel every inch of Yuuri, hot and thick as he thrusts in and out of Viktor, quick and erratic. “ _Don’t_ -”

Yuuri doesn’t listen, Viktor doesn’t expect him to, and when the cock inside him starts growing, he lets himself scream his rage and pain into the forest.

“Soon,” Yuuri mutters into his hair, wet lips brushing the shell. “Don’t fight it.”

“I can’t fight your fucking knot,” Viktor seethes, hissing the next moment when it tugs at his rim, forcing him wide open.

Yuuri laughs.

“No, no, not me. The change. It’s coming.”

Yuuri is what’s coming, spilling inside Viktor, the heat of it driving Viktor crazy. There’s too much, filling him up his insides. His hole flutters weakly around Yuuri’s knot, trying to pull him in and push him out. It’s a scene out of Viktor’s dreams and nightmares both, the latter more welcome because in the former, he _enjoyed_ it.

He doesn’t know what he’s feeling now because even as Yuuri’s skin turns into soft fur that tickles Viktor’s back, his own body starts to change.

Yuuri told him not to fight it, and Viktor would ignore him, would fight the way things shift under his skin and the unnatural twisting of his bones, except that when it comes, he’s too shocked to do anything other than let is wash over him.

He doesn’t remember anything but a flash of heat, bones creaking, and Yuuri’s knot, huge and pulsing inside him even as he writhes and shrieks and _changes_.

The last thing he sees are two sets of paws, midnight black and moonlit silver.

 

\-----

 

He wakes with Yuuri draped over him, both of them in the same bed in that same hut.

Viktor lies frozen for a long moment, feeling trapped under Yuuri’s suffocating weight. It’s that which prompts him to push him off. Yuuri falls off the bed and is awake before he hits the floor, blinking up at Viktor with big, brown eyes.

He remembers that he used to find them beautiful.

Viktor sits up and is shocked when his ass doesn’t flare with pain.

“We heal fast,” Yuuri says like he’s reading Viktor’s mind. “Now that you’ve shifted, you get the full benefits.”

“Shifted,” Viktor repeats numbly, looking down at his body.

Nothing seems different.

“You ran with me,” Yuuri tells him, almost fond. “With us. You were gorgeous.”

Viktor lifts an arm to punch him but drops his arm halfway through the motion, uncomfortably reminded of what happened the last time. Yuuri’s eyes are darkly knowing.

“The rest are in the forest,” Yuuri tells him. “They’ll be gone soon. I herded you here. Your wolf obeys me, you know.”

Disgust curls Viktor’s lip.

“I won’t. Ever.”

Yuuri smiles, sharp and wicked.

“Oh, that has its appeal too.”

Viktor flinches back from the arm Yuuri stretches towards him. Yuuri lets it fall back down, expression amused for a split second before it turns somber.

“You can’t avoid me, Vitya. Your wolf needs me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Well, sure, if you want.”

Viktor growls, the eerie noise coming from his own lips startling him out of his anger. Yuuri just laughs, sitting up and laying a hand on the bed, perilously close to Viktor’s knee.

“You’ll never be free of me, Vitya. Unless you can kill me and become pack leader. But, well…”

In a flash, Yuuri’s on the bed and Viktor’s under him.

He can feel the new strength in his limbs and he uses every last bit of it to shove at Yuuri, thrashing and pushing in an attempt to be free. Yuuri holds him down, lips thinned but eyes gleaming with twisted humor.

“You’re not quite there yet, pup.”

Viktor drives his knee at Yuuri’s stomach, satisfied when it makes him grunt in pain. He tries to follow through but Yuuri growls and something in Viktor _cowers_ at the sound.

He freezes, going limp under Yuuri.

“You’re mine,” Yuuri tells him, a thumb stroking under Viktor’s horrified eyes. “Remember?”

“What have you _done_?”

Yuuri’s answer is a kiss, wet and filthy and sinking like tar into Viktor’s soul.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what next? Vampires, tentacles, fairytales, gangbang...so many ideas, such little time.

**Author's Note:**

> I might write more if anyone’s interested. 
> 
> Comment, if you can. I enjoy them.


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